The Conquest of Mandalore

"You know, brother," Feral mused as he yanked back hard on his new Togruta slut's horns with both hands, "I was feeling a little annoyed at being left with the scraps..." He let go with one hand and spanked her hard on each big, bubbly asscheek, watching the orange mounds wobble with each strike. "...but this might be the tightest hole I've ever fucked!" She orgasmed under him at the lewd compliment, pussy juices squirting out around his cock as he remolded her pussy to fit his shape. Ahsoka Tano, once a proud Jedi, whined and panted like a bitch in heat through her ring gag, her legs spread wide and her arms pulled above her head by manacles attached by chains to the ceiling. "And it's like this Mando slut kneeling behind me was made to suck on my balls," he growled, as Bo-Katan Kryze - the Mando slut in question - took one of his heavy, throbbing nuts completely into her mouth, her jaw aching as she struggled to accommodate the fist-sized sperm factory.

"That's because Mandalorians are made to serve the Sith, Feral," the hulking form of Savage rumbled beside him, "the men as cannon fodder, the women as cocksleeves." His own cock was currently sawing in and out of a cunt that, while not as tight as Ahsoka's, was far more experienced and skilled - after all, Analise Skywalker had made sure to embrace all aspects of a female Jedi's life once she came of age. Her public best friend and secret bride, Padme Amidala, knelt behind the burly Zabrak, alternately smearing each fist-sized testicle with lipstick from her kisses and polishing them clean with her tongue. The Chosen One herself was a mess, flushed and glassy-eyed as her pussy was pummeled by a cock of exceptional size even by her overachieving standards and Savage's large hands dug into her hips.

Further down the Master-Knight-Padawan line they'd made, Darth Maul didn't have anything to add. Instead, he focused all his energy and attention on wearing down the last of Obina Kenobi's resistance, one hand groping her tit and the other tugging at her long brown locks of hair. The Jedi had nearly cut him in two when they'd fought all those years before and left him for dead, and now she was still fighting the nature of her body. Every orgasm he **** from her was an effort for the ages, every whine or moan that slipped past her gag a welcome reminder that, no matter how she tried to hide it, this was where she belonged. He supposed that a big part of her resistance was the outrage of seeing Satine Kryze burying her face in his nuts like she was trying to smother herself, an act she was eagerly repeating now as she drooled and slobbered all over his orbs.

As the cameras positioned around the room continued to record every second of the trio's fall from grace, the three women kneeling behind the brothers each felt a rough, possessive squeeze around their necks. Obediently, they pulled back from their ball-worship, grasped and spread wide the asscheeks of the man in front of them, and then the three of them - proud Mandalorian warrior, stoic Duchess and sophisticated Senator alike - pressed their lips to their owners' assholes in an obscene parody of a kiss. All three brothers snarled as their side pieces began their sloppy, devoted rimjobs, bucking their hips forward with wild abandon and finally released the orgasms they'd been holding back for so long.

As she and her fellow Jedi felt their bellies swelling with the unnatural size of the creampies they were receiving, and the last of her resistance melted away into brainless breeding bliss, Obina's mind clung to the events that had led her to this point. The events that had led to the Jedi Order's three brightest lights being turned into the Sith's slutty sex slaves...